The restaurant was warmly lit with candles that flickered softly from the chandeliers and reflected off the ornately framed mirrors that adorned the walls beside elegant oil paintings and beautiful drapery. Yongguk would have mourned how all of these things were definitely fake, had he not had his eyes locked on his wristwatch. He'd showed up a little bit early out of fear of showing up late, but now with the light of the electric candles flickering on the hands that pointed decisively five minutes past their agreed meeting time, he was starting to wonder if it was worth the worry.

He caught sight of his reflection in one of the wall mirrors and fixed his hair. He definitely hadn't used enough gel to keep it in place. If only he hadn't rushed out, he told himself, then he'd have had time to make sure it wouldn't fall apart so easily.

He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes.

Something like a sick familiarity crawled into his gut and settled there. He tried to shake the feeling off, shifting in his chair and re-reading the menu. He pulled his phone out and checked his messages. Nothing new.

Fifteen minutes.

Took one look at him and left, a quiet memory whispered to him.

He grit his teeth.

He looks like a gangster.

He clenched his fists. It was closing in on twenty minutes and he'd had no call, no texts, no anything. He reached back for his jacket.

“Ah! Yongguk, sorry I'm so late!”

He looked up to see Himchan half fall into his chair, hair falling out of it's hold and his sleeves crumpled along his arms like he'd pushed them up and they'd slowly worked themselves loose.

“I had a physio appointment and it ran over, then I realised I'd thrown away half my nice clothes and I only had this one can of hairspray and then because I'd had physio I had to walk slower than usual and...” He waved a hand, “Anyway. I'm sorry. I'm here now. Were you here long? Augh, I was going to text you but I was in such a rush I didn't even have time to do that.”

Yongguk stared at the slightly dishevelled man and felt his nerves bubble over into relief. He raised a hand to cover his mouth, but couldn't stifle the laughter that escaped.

“What? What is it? Is it my face? My hair?” Himchan raised a hand to scrape through his ruffled locks.

“No- Well, yes, your hair too. Never mind. We're fine.” Yongguk grinned and tucked his phone into his pocket. “I'm glad you made it.”

“So am I.” Himchan smiled at him, a hint of shyness playing about his face that made Yongguk's heartbeat rise a little.

If there was one thing Yongguk could say about Himchan, it was that he radiated such natural princeliness that had any of the decoration been real, he'd have made them look tacky by comparison. The warm glow shone from his dark hair and sparkled in his eyes, even shimmered off the wet patch on his lower lip that had been left behind from the rim of his glass. Maybe it was the wine, or the way the musician seemed more confident and comfortable than Yongguk had ever seen him, but just the sight of the younger man in that moment was utterly intoxicating.

“If you keep looking at me like that I'm going to combust.”

And there was also that blush that had stained pale cheeks red, almost matching the wine.

“I'm serious. Stop!” Himchan turned his face away to not look at Yonggk, one hand raised to block his vision.

Yongguk couldn't help it. A grin split through his expression. “Ah, sorry, I think I might have spaced out for a moment.”

“You manage a whole meal but start drifting before we do pudding?” Himchan chuckled a little. “Try not to get philosophical over a cheese cake.”

Yongguk raised his eyebrows. “Did you want to get pudding?”

Himchan seemed to shrink a little. “Well, not if you're not getting anything.”

“Oh, no, you can get pudding if you want.” Yongguk straightened up quickly.

“No, no, it's fine. I don't want to eat if you're not.”

“I just don't have much of a taste for rich sweet things. You can if you want, I'll get a coffee.”

Himchan eyed him, hovering between obviously wanting desert and not wanting to appear rude.

“Hey, it's fine. Maybe they'll have something simple like ice cream or...” A thought occurred to him, “Or, if you want, I'm pretty sure I have a full tub of ice cream I never got round to eating. If you want we could go back to my apartment and have that?” He'd offered it as a very innocent act of sharing food, but as soon as he finished speaking he realised that by asking Himchan back to his place another, subtler offer hung between them.

Himchan seemed to consider it carefully as he picked up his glass and sipped the last of his wine. Just as Yongguk was about to withdraw and amend his offer, Himchan nodded. “Yeah. That would be nice. My place is still being redecorated so it would be a good change of scene.” He grinned. “Besides, it'll be interesting to see where a rapper lives. I bet it's like one of those TV shows where there's gold-plated things and pictures of women in bikinis and animal skin rugs.”

“It's... Nothing like that.” Yongguk pursed his lips in distaste.

“Good because that would be really gaudy.”

Yongguk snorted. “You're unbelievable.”

“I think that more or less sums me up.” Himchan gave him a small smile.

“Well, you should know there's no fur. I don't support the use of real fur or endangerment of animals.”

“Good.”

“There is one painting of a woman, ...”

Himchan's brows furrowed.

Yongguk chuckled. “It's an Egon Schiele print. She's being held by her lover. It's very beautiful.”

“I'll make my own decision on it when I see it.” Himchan shorted a little. “What about the gold?”

“Nah. Got a gold vinyl on the wall but that's it.”

“Well it's off to a good start then.” Himchan smirked. “I'll have to judge your décor myself.”

The blue sky hung over them, clear of clouds and sprinkled with distant stars. The moon glowed, not quite full but bright enough to leave a chalky smudge around it. It reflected off the higher windows of tall buildings, but was drowned by the orange-pink glow of the street lamps that lit the roads and warmed the darkness. The two men walked arm in arm, alone but not lonely, looking for a moment like an old sepia photograph as they made their way through the empty late-night streets.

“Why did you bring me flowers when I was at the hospital?” Himchan asked, head comfortably resting on Yongguk's shoulder.

“Because... I wanted to.” Yongguk answered, unsure of what the point of the question was.

“Okay, let me rephrase. Why did you bring me flowers when I was in the hospital despite everything I did?”

Yongguk didn't answer immediately. Himchan's hair gently tickled his neck and the gentle waft of that familiar cologne was slowing his thought process down. “I guess I didn't want everything that happened to have ended on a bad note. Even if we hadn't tried a real date, I would've wanted things to be okay between us. There's no point having difficulties between people if they can be talked through.”

“You're a very wise person.”

Yongguk laughed a little. “Maybe. I don't think so. I think I'm just not very happy when I know there are things that can be resolved.”

“Are you happy now?” Himchan turned his head to look up at him.

Yongguk glanced down and found their faces very close, Himhan's warm breath ghosting over his own lips. “Yeah. I am.”

“That's good.” Himchan put his head back on Yongguk's shoulder and held his arm a little tighter.

“What about you?”

“I think I'll be happier when I can sit and give my ankle a rest.” Himchan chuckled.

“We'll be at my place soon. You can put your feet up then.”

Himchan shorted. “You make me sound like an old man.”

“Ah, welcome to my world. Being an old person in a young man's body.”

Himchan didn't even try to stop the laugh that burst out of him.

Soundtrack: Delta Ray - The Morning Comes